Virtually Realized
by imnotacommittee
Summary: vignette - Bond is unprepared for his return from the Icarus mission - hint to Bond/Moneypenny


**Disclaimer**: _James Bond_ belongs to Ian Fleming, EON Productions, etc. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Rating**: K for some double entendres

**A/N**: this vignette popped into my head. It has no plot and is just a piece of fluff. I'm sorry, ilandra, for not waiting. But this is small enough, and I didn't want to trouble you. I think it was safe to go forward without a beta. But if you see something, let me know.

**Setting**: takes place after Die Another Day, so it's the Brosnan era cast

Virtually Realized

James walked through the halls of MI6, a feeling of familiarity sweeping through him. His gratitude for it surprised him. It had been almost two years since he'd be in the building, and the fact that hardly anything had changed, from the smells of the cleaned carpets to the harmonious sounds of office life, made him feel rather content.

Since his successful mission and his self-imposed time off lost on an island with the American agent Giacinta Johnson, Jinx, he truly felt ready to be back on active duty. Back where he belonged. The quick looks of fellow agents and various stuff as they whisked by him enforced the feeling; people seemed happy that he was back, even if they were too busy to properly declare it. MI6 was hardly the place for after-hours pub meetings; hurried glances were the best they could afford.

James office had been given out to his replacement in the Double-O section, so he had to settle with a smaller office on a different floor until he saw to fix the situation. He wasn't by nature a proud man regarding office politics, but he felt he had earned the right to have a higher location to conduct his official affairs and look out to a better view.

M had requested an early meeting upon his return. And by early, she meant eight hundred hours. Getting up at such an unnatural time was one thing he _hadn't_ missed; he knew the Queen of Numbers was getting some satisfaction in the little things to make his life hell. As it was, he was already five minutes late.

He strode down the hall to M's office, glancing quickly down the opposite end to where his own office had been, and where he vowed to be again. He made another mental reminder to bring that up.

Bond slowed his pace and smoothed his suit as he approached his goal; he didn't want to _look_ like he had been running through the facility. Especially if he was about to encounter…

As he had countless times before, he casually sauntered through the entrance way, more than looking forward to the greeting he was sure to receive. But without warning, he stopped dead and caught his breath.

Many expressions have crossed 007's face whenever he walked into M's inner office rooms: a genuine smile, sparkling eyes, or a saucy grin. And they were usually returned with perfect compatibility on the lovely face of Miss Moneypenny. She, the one woman who was able to meet him on level ground and who seemed to enjoy their friendship as much as he did with no indication of wanting to take it further. Every time he came into M's office, Moneypenny was there, with a warm smile and ready to meet him quip for quip in their friendly flirtation. She was a needed constant in his unpredictable life.

But seeing her sitting there at her computer, her mannerisms achingly familiar as she quietly typed up one of her many reports, his reaction surprised him. He exhaled.

He was relieved. It was an overwhelming sensation; he was glad she hadn't noticed him yet. In a matter of seconds, his heart raced and then immediately calmed, as if he dropped something precious and quickly recovered it before it was lost. It nearly floored him, and he seemed to have frozen on the spot. Quickly, he fought for the reason behind his reaction.

Then it came to him. The last time he had "seen" her, she was dead.

Sensing someone standing there, she looked up. Her entire countenance brightened. "James! You're back!"

For the first time in recent memory, James Bond was rendered speechless. He couldn't even register enough to be ashamed of his lack of response. He was dumbfounded to see her alive.

"Did you save any of those diamonds for me? Perhaps put one in a ring?"

"I, uh…"

Her eyes narrowed. "James, are you alright?"

Bond shook his head, at last removing the shock from his system. He walked into the office, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to hug the woman sitting in front of him. But before he could either fight or embrace the impulse, the intercom sounded.

"Moneypenny, is 007 in yet?"

The secretary waited a beat, still confused at James' behavior. Blinking, she turned to answer. "Yes, ma'am, he's just arrived."

"Send him in, please."

The light changed next to M's door. Moneypenny's smile was smaller. "Welcome back, James."

Finding safety behind the shield of work, Bond finally found his voice. "Same to you, Moneypenny."

He smiled at her puzzled expression and turned to enter M's office.

* * *

_Not immediately returned to active duty until further refreshing training is complete?_ James let M's office door slam behind him, more than half hoping the loud crash made his boss jump. Hadn't he just saved the world from solar doom and given millions of pounds worth of diamonds to Her Majesty's treasury? Wasn't that _refreshment_ enough?

James looked around, and felt his annoyance rise at Moneypenny's absence. He glanced down at his watch; he was only gone for an hour. Where would she have gone? The image of her blank expression and limp body flashed before him again, and he shuddered.

While he knew it was just an exercise from Q's latest toy, just the idea of her death disturbed him. Moneypenny was always there, and it chilled him to realize how much he had taken her presence in his life for granted.

"That was quick!"

His reverie broke as Moneypenny glided into the office, cradling a stack of reports. He hoped his smile was casual enough.

"I've been pulled off active duty until my skills are refined."

She smiled compassionately. "Looks like you'll be around here a lot more. Shall I alert the crypto interns that a Double Oh is on the prowl?"

He tried to smile; there really _was_ safety in consistency. But he still felt troubled. No matter how he tried, he couldn't get the vision of her lifeless form out of his head.

Determined to remove his sudden agitation, he sat on her desk, obscuring her view of the file she was transcribing.

She sighed in mock irritation. "James, just because you can't do your work doesn't mean you can stop others from doing theirs."

Bond wasn't in the mood for banter. Not just yet. He stared at her, the pale smoothness of her skin, the bright blue eyes, hair a shade of ginger no other woman's hair could match. He studied her, causing her to frown.

"James, you're starting to make me feel M has made the right decision to pull you off active duty."

Directness was the best approach. "Moneypenny, did you know that the Quartermaster department has one of those virtual reality tools?"

Her face paled. "Oh?"

Ignoring her unexpected shock, he nodded. "Yes, it's used to sharpen agents' skills," he explained, "in addition to the firing range."

"Oh?"

"I used it a few weeks ago before heading off to Iceland," Bond continued. "M wants me to do some more training for the rest of the week."

"Oh."

He looked down at her again. "Have you had a chance to play with it?"

She inhaled sharply. "I, uh, have tested it, yes."

His eyes narrowed. "They had you run through that training course?" he asked, appalled.

"Well, I didn't get very far…"

"Did they alter it for you?"

"Excuse me?"

Finally seeing the panic on her face, Bond smiled sympathetically. "Did they run the MI6 take-over scenario for you? That was rather cruel."

Flustered, she leaned away from him. "No, I just put the glasses on real fast and did a couple of things… What do you mean, _cruel_?"

Bond looked at her forehead and then into her eyes. Eyes that had been blank in death… He blinked. "The MI6 take-over scenario. Q programmed you to be killed."

Exhaling in relief, she laughed. "Oh, I _have_ heard about it. I keep meaning to ask Q what I had ever done to him to merit being killed."

Bond failed to return the laughter. He leaned closer to her. She swallowed, clearly discomposed. "It made me ashamed that I never delivered on a promise I made to you," he said.

"Promise?"

"What are you doing for dinner tonight, Penny?"

Disbelief graced her face. "Why, James, if _that's_ what it takes for you to finally take me to dinner…"

He still was not laughing as he leaned in even closer. Did she always smell of lavender? "Shall I pick you up, say, at nineteen hundred hours?"

Moneypenny smiled. It made his stomach tighten. "I would love to, James."

"Excellent." He stood abruptly and walked around to the exit. "Now I have to see to getting my office back."

"Good-bye, James."

He winked at her. "Until tonight, Jane." Turning, he grinned. Perhaps inactive duty wouldn't be so bad after all.

end.


End file.
